


Don't Leave Me

by Hart_Attack22



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Slow Burn, the mandalorian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hart_Attack22/pseuds/Hart_Attack22
Summary: So I'll try to make this short, but I stumbled across an absolute amazing fic series by LadyIrina (The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper) and it was *chef kiss* beautiful. This fic is inspired by a small idea mentioned on discord that I just had to write and I apologize beforehand. . . Things got way more angsty than planned but hang in because I do try to cushion the fall at the end so your poor feels aren't completely destroyed. This is also my first fic posted here and in general as a whole, so be kind but feel free to leave comments!I do heavily encourage though (whether you enjoy this fic or not) to read LadyIrina's fic series because it is amazing. Anyway, let's get this show on the road kiddos and buckle in tight because it's a wild ride.
Relationships: The Mandalorian/Corin
Comments: 33
Kudos: 181





	Don't Leave Me

He tries again, and again, and again. Each time, Corin is deftly deflected, tossed aside, pinned, knocked back, as if his attempts of striking back and all of his academy training is nothing. There are too many of them,  _ far  _ too many for him and the Mandalorian to counterattack. Corin tries for what seems hours upon hours, ears ringing, nose bleeding, ribs cracked, fingers broken, until he is too exhausted to put any strength into another punch and the final lunge ends up more with him sobbing and shaking in frustration against the cold snow.  _ Snow. _ Corin loves the snow but not when it’s stained with blood, his blood and no doubt the Mandalorian’s. Where is the Mandalorian, his Mandalorian, he’s lost him somewhere during the fray and only now noticed. Caught in a daze Corin never sees the dark figure approach him like a shadow seeping out of a crevice in the snow somewhere. Rough hands catch his wrists firmly and twist them into a more secure hold. Corin finds himself being manhandled, stumbling in the deep snow, till he’s on his knees before a row of Death Troopers. Garnet blood shines against their obsidian armor and drips onto the snow. 

“This what you wanted? I’m sure your father would be so proud of you, CT - 113.”  Corin knows that voice, he doesn’t want to look up, no, his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of the child. . . The Mandalorian.  _ Are they safe? _ Somehow though he finds the courage to look up, past the Death Troopers, and at the pointed stare of Moff Gideon. “You did beautifully, I’ll give you that much credit, but that’s enough now. You know what becomes of traitors.” 

“I don’t care,” Corin speaks boldly or tries to. His voice trembles, Hell his whole body does with both terror and pain, but he holds his ground even if it is on his knees. “Everyone dies, might as well make it count for something.” 

Gideon’s laugh is colder than the snow pressing against Corin’s knees. “Don’t play the hero - you aren’t made for that kind of stuff. You are nothing but a defective cog in the machine and defects only have one purpose. Death.” 

A cold blaster meets the base of Corin’s head where his spine begins, but this time Corin doesn’t look away. This time he stares death in the face, refusing to die a coward. He’s no longer a Storm Trooper, some cog in the machine, not with Mandalorian beskar shining on his shoulders. The bright suns reflect their warm rays off the shining silver metal, a gift he never deserved but wears with pride. Mandalorian's die with glory, honor, not fear, he should do the same. 

“Wait.” 

A voice calls over the snow making Corin’s heart race, eyes snapping away from Moff Gideon, the Mandalorian. He’s some kind of angel walking across the snow, made of beskar and sharp objects he calls religion, blood smeared all across the shining silver but something about it makes him even more alluring. Corin finds himself relaxing at the mere sight of the Mandalorian,  _ he’s alive and okay _ it’s a large weight lifting off his shoulders, a small smirk creeps onto his face. Gideon turns to face the Mandalorian, Corin expects the man to instantly vaporize into the cold air from the Mandalorian’s pulse rifle instead Gideon makes a gesture for the Death Troopers to stand down. 

“What now, you did your part and delivered the rogue asset.” 

It could be difficult to catch everything going on at the best of times, Corin can admit he was a bit oblivious from time to time, right now though he was more than confused. Something was beginning to nest deep within Corin’s stomach, where his old wound was, tugging and twisting on the scar tissue.  _ Fear _ .

“Forgot something.” The Mandalorian turns his head slightly to glance at Corin. Slowly the Mandalorian walks over towards him, snow crunching lightly underfoot, heart racing with anticipation. This is all part of some plan he didn’t tell me about Corin assures himself, staring at the expressionless visor getting closer, till the Mandalorian is squatting right in front of him. A vibro-knife slides into the Mandalorian’s hand, carefully concealed in the shadows of his wrist, Corin’s lets out a sigh of relief. Good luck is on his side today, it really is. 

“I thought you were going to leave me.” Corin quietly laughs out about to look up at the beskar helmet of the Mandalorian, his Mandalorian. 

“Who said I wasn’t.” Before Corin can say or think anything paralyzing pain seeps into his body like icy, liquid beskar. Corin’s fingers flex against the hold behind his back, watching as the Mandalorian draws the blade from his torso. “You always said ‘you can never trust anyone to stay or keep you around.’” 

He carefully moves around Corin and cuts the straps of his beskar pauldrons. They shine in the sunlight but now in the Mandalorian’s hands, not upon Corin’s proud shoulders. 

“I thought you’d,” He takes a shuddering breath the healed wound in his torso now ripped wide open. “You would be the exception.” 

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not.” 

Corin swore to himself day after day that he would never think otherwise of what he and the Mandalorian are, but now brain foggy and torso throbbing he didn’t know what else to say. All he knows is that he doesn’t want the Mandalorian to leave, leave him on this planet with Moff Gideon and the remnants of a fallen empire hungry for blood. 

“I love you.” 

The words tumble out of his mouth messily onto the bloodied snow making the Mandalorian freeze, back turned to him.  _ Silence _ . It hangs heavy between them both, they’re a mere foot apart but it feels like an entire ocean, finally the Mandalorian speaks voice emotionless. 

“Your own misguided faith.” With that, he walks away into the setting suns over icy mountain ridges.

Corin can taste blood in his mouth, as coppery and wrong as everything else. He braces himself as best as he can, breath coming rapidly behind his swollen tongue from biting too hard. Corin’s heart slams, his soul fractures cutting through his skin to burrow there. Air displaces near him. Corin flinches, despite promising himself he wouldn’t. Gideon smiles and bends down, dragging Corin up by the front of his clothes. His head lolls to the side, ears ringing but eyes steady on the Razor Crest as it takes off.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Gideon taps a blaster against Corin’s bruised cheek. “People prepare themselves for pain, train so long, so hard - they never even think to build a tolerance for  _ other  _ kinds of pain. He sold you out, called you disgusting.” 

The scream pierces the wintery air like air raid sirens do before a bombardment. It echoes through the still forests and between the mountains making the origin hard to pin-point. It’s the scream of a shard of glass ripping through the soul of a human being, mercilessly tearing away at the essence at what makes someone who they are. Corin feels his eyes widen and pulse quicken, heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box. Again the scream echoes, desperate, terrified. . . broken. 

“Corin. . . Corin.” Hands catch the sides of his face, holding it still as it tries to thrash back and forth. Another scream tears itself from Corin’s lungs but he no longer knows where his pain is centered. His stomach or his soul. “Corin!” 

The hands tighten, grip firm on his tear-stained cheeks but not unkind until Corin realizes that he is no longer dangling by the merciless hand of Moff Gideon and goes still enough on his own accord. Heart pounding in his chest the hands move from his cheeks to the base of his neck to cradle his jaw. 

“Corin?” 

Inhaling a startled breath the snow begins to melt from Corin’s vision as well as Moff Gideon’s evil smirk, he recognizes the Mandalorian, of course, but he’s never seen him this close. Not since. . .  _ No, that didn’t happen he was only drunk on that Mandalorian wine and probably doesn’t remember. _ Corin can see his own dazed and confused expression in the Mandalorian’s visor, sweat has his hair plastered to his forehead, blue eyes wide and darting around like a scared animal. 

“Corin, are you okay?” The Mandalorian’s soft voice is what breaks him out of his trance, bringing Corin’s mind to a grinding halt back into reality. “Corin?” 

The remnants of the nightmare run like poison in Corin’s bloodstream, it’s hard to swallow, he doesn’t want to exist everything feels too much. He doesn’t know what to feel. 

Shaking his head violently “no” Corin brings a shaking hand up to rub across his face, he has to remind himself it’s only sweat that coats his palm - not blood rushing out from his torso. Hesitantly he looks back at the man crouched in front of him, the man who sold him for freedom because he was a burden? 

“It’s okay, whatever you saw it wasn’t real.” Corin feels the Mandalorian draw a hand, ungloved, through his hair leaning forward to press the cool beskar of his helmet against the hot skin of Corin’s forehead. “This right here: the kid, you, and me this is real. Okay?” 

There are a million reasons combined with a thousand thoughts telling Corin why this can’t be real, that this must be another trick of the mind before something rips his soul apart again. Yet, feeling the cooling sensation of cold beskar against his hot skin and the Mandalorian’s fingers in his hair and on his skin go against it all, even the bad luck that seems to pile up against him. Never wanting to forget this, seal it somewhere in his memories, for when bad luck strikes and fear embeds itself in his core again Corin grasps the Mandalorian’s shoulders with both hands. His knuckles turning white with the strength of his desperate hold on the man in front of him, fingers almost able to tear the jacket in half, he can feel pinpricks of tears again wanting to race down his face. 

“Don’t - don’t leave me. If you want  _ I  _ can leave, you’ll never have to see me again, but don’t leave me.”  _ Don’t give me to them.  _ Corin’s voice is anything except strong, he can taste the phantom remains of blood in his mouth and the sting of a vibro-knife that did more than cut flesh. “I know what I am and that -” 

“Don’t.” The Mandalorian’s words are sharp, hand pulling on Corin’s hair, through the visor Corin can feel the heat of his stare. “Don’t say those things, not about yourself when you’re -” 

“Disgusting.” 

“Perfect.” 

A thumb brushes against the outline of Corin’s jawline, a hand cradling the back of his head, there’s a soft exhale but Corin doesn’t know if it’s because his heart is still trying to calm itself down or something else. Slowly the memories of the nightmare ebb away from his mind: blood-soaked snow, Death Troopers, vibro-knives, and words that were never said:  _ “He sold you out, called you disgusting” _ . Yet, even with the assurance that it was all some vicious nightmare his subconscious had conjured there’s one idea that remains, especially with the Mandalorian now so close to him, the faint echoes of a word Corin longs to say but doesn’t know if it’s an accident or deliberate. 

_ “I love you.”  _

  
  



End file.
